


the future is the past waiting to happen

by zodiakku (ZodiacRiver)



Series: all the small words [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character Study, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Slow Dancing, Third Person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9660968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZodiacRiver/pseuds/zodiakku
Summary: An 11 p.m. dance in the kitchen.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ugh what am I doing I have vowed to myself to never write anything anymore for the rest of my lives. I have betrayed myself, apparently. If you follow me on twitter then you’re probably already bored with me talking about this lmao. Maybe just one fic won’t hurt.

_And though you may not be able to imagine what I was like, I did live._

_More importantly, I loved._

\- Iain S. Thomas, I Wrote This For You _  
_

 

* * *

 

 

For Viktor, to be able to meet Yuuri is a form of magic itself.  
  
_What good deed did he do in his life – or even his previous life, to deserve such person?_  
  
There was a time, a good long time ago; long enough for his memories to blur, but not enough to disappear. He recalls sitting on his twin-size bed in the bedroom of his apartment, hand petting Makkachin next to him and mind wondering if this completely mundane life would last until the day of his death. He remembers his birthdays – he lost count how many – spent by buying a piece of cake and blowing candles all by himself (Makkachin doesn’t count).  
  
He wasn’t particularly alone, but he sincerely thought that the loving presence of someone would be nice, _magical_ even. Sometimes he believed that he was being punished for asking too much. Well, he had almost everything; rinkmates, a coach, fans from all over the world, a roof above his head, a good dog, gold medals, even one or two friends – but there was something missing that he couldn’t quite put his finger to. Something that he had yearned for so long, something that he never really had in the first place, something, something, _something_.  
  
He may be the world’s greatest figure skater, a living legend and whatever people prefer to name him, but he is, in truth, just a person. He is a person with human heart, a person with feelings and, _and_ —  
  
—and he happened to be one of the people that was looking for love. He didn’t mind what kind; as long as it’s someone to hold then he didn’t care.  
  
Like a wanderer looking for a place to settle.  
  
_Until the farthest part of the world and the deepest trench of the ocean._  
  
He let his fate flow following the current, and it brought him to neither an unknown place nor anywhere watery.  
  
Surprisingly, it was a banquet.  
  
He would—no, he _could_ never forget the sudden explosion of unfathomable feelings inside his chest on that very day. Yuuri, dancing with him with a huge smile plastered on his face. Yuuri, with that hideous tie on his head as if it were a flower crown; those big brown eyes gleaming ever so brightly that Viktor thought he might have stared at the sun instead of eyes. Yuuri, hugging him and asking him to be his coach in a way that drove Viktor into a realization.  
  
To abandon his successful career and leave his home country to coach a drunk man that he met in a banquet seemed to be something a fool would do. Viktor, of course, didn’t care.  
  
_He had found someone he wanted to protect._  
  
He thought that he would regret some things in the beginning, but he didn’t. If not, it is safe to say that it was the best decision to ever be made.  
  
Living with Yuuri taught him so many things, indeed, like how warm it was to sleep together with someone on the same bed or even trivial things like how to use chopsticks properly. But he was the most grateful for Yuuri’s love and life for teaching him what true happiness is.  
  
His pride and joy of winning gold medals and other achievements didn’t match the pride and joy that burst for his dear Yuuri. It kind of made him want to weep in delirium.  
  
_He had never been a real victor until then._  
  
Yuuri is winsome; Viktor can read that. He is charismatic in his own innocent and naïve way but _God_ , how he is so damn beautiful and attractive in so many other ways that words and adjectives fail to describe. He is a man with a glass heart, there’s no denying that, but Viktor doesn’t even have to peel Yuuri’s layers one by one to see that he is a strong man with a soul made of steel.  
  
For Viktor, Yuuri is everything gorgeous in the world; he is a Shakespeare sonnet and an angel and a vast field of purple flowers and the sun, the moon, the stars, the universe, and all those sappy stuff only a 16-year-old in love would write about.  
  
_Ah._  
  
He is very lucky, very glad and he will never trade this life for granted.  
  
When he finds his arms around Yuuri’s waist, he is holding a gem. Yuuri’s arms, in turn, are around his neck, his forehead on his fiancé’s and their noses nearly touch (it is an irritating distance). Their breaths mingle together and their feet moving around steadily and slowly.  
  
It is dark. The only thing that illuminates the kitchen is the light from the ajar refrigerator door, excluding the pale moonlight that made its way from the completely open window. But Viktor can see Yuuri’s face line and shape just well and he wants to kiss those closing eyelids badly.  
  
It is cold, wind would occasionally blow and it would make both of them shiver a little, but Viktor feels warm and _safe_ – or maybe that’s just because Yuuri’s skin is touching his and it’s his hearth.  
  
It is quiet. It is tranquil and romantic and it is a moment that appears in every single cheesy romance movies. But this one is different; everything is so natural and peaceful and intimate. The sound of crickets and frogs are the only ones audible, but Viktor swears that he can hear heartbeats too.  
  
And then, all of the sudden, Viktor feels a churn on his stomach. It’s like he’s drowning in effervescent liquid. The world is spinning and he is going to pause time if he could without hesitation. He is falling, falling down into an endless chasm and he is like a pendulum and _he is running out of metaphors to express how he feels._  
  
_All because Yuuri’s lips are pressing against his and he’s—he’s—_  
  
Right, it isn’t his first time to be kissed by Yuuri (hell, it isn’t even his first kiss). He has kissed him way more passionately and done things less appropriate than kissing, but for God’s sake he is so intoxicated and somewhat bewildered and the mix of the two.  
  
He loves Yuuri so much that he doesn’t want to think about it because if he does he’s going to blow up into bubbles and he knows this.  
  
_(Does he know that Yuuri reciprocates?)_  
  
He forgets his own name. He forgets about his age, the time, where he is, and everything else that is ephemeral. All he remembers is that Yuuri is kissing him and he is kissing back and it feels like a millennium although it isn’t and the kiss itself isn’t forever if you’re mentioning it in the terms of being literal but Viktor still thinks that it is.  
  
Then his hand starts to slither from waist to cheek. His thumb softly caresses him right under his eye and his other fingers gently touch the hair behind Yuuri’s ear.  
  
It breaks.  
  
Viktor doesn’t complain.  
  
“Are you okay?” Yuuri asks, his voice so hushed that Viktor doesn’t catch it for a moment.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“You seem…flushed.”  
  
“Do I?”  
  
“Quite a bit.”  
  
Viktor lets out a sigh and places his hands and forehead to where they were. Although they are sleepy and inevitably tired, neither speaks a word of disagreement.  
  
Viktor is, for the first time in his life, finally able to name his feelings.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think,,, I kinda liked it but idk about you so,, 
> 
> Also please yell at me:  
> Twitter: icryoverships


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